Dudley's Diet
by Snackmaster007
Summary: Dudley Dursley takes his weight into his own hands as he decides to go on the popular American gameshow, 'The Biggest Loser.' But little does he know, he may have a chance to do so much more.
1. Chapter One: Trains

After his fifth slice of bacon, Dudley went upstairs to put on his Smeltings uniform. He felt so proud as he pulled the freshly pressed black and red uniform out of the dry-cleaning bag. He put on his white button-down shirt with a wonderful sense of satisfaction. But he had trouble buttoning the buttons over his hefty stomach. He tried covering it up with his jacket, but he was just too big. He couldn't even fit his XXXL pants that his father had to order specially for him over his rather large thighs and arse. How could he possibly go on the train?

Dudley sat at the train station, waiting for the 10:15 train to Smeltings in his seat pants and T-shirt. Why did he have to feel this way? Why did the waste bands on all his pairs of sweat pants have to break? His skinny cousin Harry must've used magic to make himself so thin.

As Dudley sat at the station pondering life, the radio station he was listening to started playing "Proud" by Heather Small. As he heard her sing, "What have you done today to make you feel proud?" he thought to himself, "What have I done today to make myself feel proud?

When Dudley arrived at Smeltings, everyone else was already in their uniform. He felt completely out of place. Looking at the chiseled bodies of the rugby and cricket teams that walked by made him want to cry his fat away.

"Hey, fatty! Want a doughnut, fatty?" yelled Blake, the captain of the cricket team.

"Why can't you just leave me alone? I've never done anything to you!" Dudley hollered back with tears streaming down his plump cheeks as he waddled as fast as he could to the safety of his dormitory.

All that Dudley could do when he was alone was eat his feelings away. Each piece of candy he ate was like a small piece of comfort, yet once he stopped eating, that comfort disappeared. At his old school, being big was a kind of status symbol. He was the one who picked on people, not the other way around. But at Smeltings, everyone was so fit, if anyone made a comment about his weight, he couldn't hit them because they would hit him back. But he could never leave Smeltings because his father would be too disappointed. And his father was the only one who seemed to love him nowadays.

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After squeezing into his uniform before his first class, Dudley decided to make a quick stop at the doughnut store. As he walked, he thought, "Maybe no one else really notices how big I really am. Maybe it's only the kids at school who see me as fat because they only see the worst in people and enjoy bringing other people down."

"Hey, kid. You look like you could lose some weight," said the man behind the counter.

"What?" replied Dudley, bewildered and offended.

"Well there's this show that they do in America called, 'The Biggest Loser,' and I think you would be a perfect candidate for it."

"Great. I'm glad you think I'm a big loser."

"No, no, no. The show is about losing weight. The person who loses the most weight by the end of the show wins the title of 'The Biggest Loser' and the million dollar prize money. This season the show is taking one person from each participating country, and each person has the chance to become the next 'Biggest Loser.' What do you say? I'll give you the card, and you can go to the agency if you want to."

I don't think so. I couldn't possibly leave Smeltings. My father would be outraged."

"Well, if you ever change your mind, here's the card."

Reluctantly, Dudley accepted the card. But only because the man refused to sell the three, much-desired chocolate-frosted cake donuts to Dudley until he took the card. Dudley was really just trying to humor the man. He didn't really need it, right? One hundred sixty kilograms wasn't bad for his age. It was merely baby fat.

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"Anything over one hundred fifteen kilograms is simply too much for anyone your age to weigh," said Professor Durkin, Dudley's health professor. "And that's only if that person is very tall, and has a high muscle mass."

Dudley's five-foot-eight, pudgy self could not bear to listen any longer. He put his head down for the rest of the lesson, and pretended to be asleep as he cried.

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During his free period, Dudley decided to make the journey to 167 Maltin St., the address on the card that the doughnut man had given him. Hesitantly, he walked into the building, not knowing what he would do or say when he stepped into the tall, skinny building.

"Can I help you?" asked the pretty, blue-eyed receptionist at the front desk.

"Well…er…I….er…don't know…er…I was given this card earlier this morning…er…is this where I'm supposed to be if I would like to apply to 'The Biggest Loser?' Er…I mean…I'm not interested in doing it…I just have this friend…and he might want to…"

"Alright," replied the receptionist as if she knew who Dudley really meant his "friend" was. "I can make an appointment for your friend to have an interview with the manager of the show. What time do you think he would like to make the appointment? We have openings Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday at 2:30 and 5:00, and Wednesday and Thursday at 4:15."

"I think that he could make it Thursday at 4:15."

"Excellent. And what name should I put this appointment under?"

"Er…well…his name is…er…Dudley Dursley."

"Thank you. I'll be looking forward to meeting him."

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Dudley arrived at the manager's office for 'The Biggest Loser' at 4:25 on Thursday afternoon. He tried to be punctual, but he didn't realize that stairs would be involved.

"Hi. Sorry I'm late. You should really get that elevator fixed. I had a bit of trouble climbing that flight of stairs."

"That's quite alright. We actually did that on purpose. We need some one that's out of shape for the show, and so far you've taken the longest time climbing the stairs. Good job! But on to other matters. My name is John Marcus. I have a few questions to ask you to see if you're the best candidate from England to be on the show. How old are you, Dudley?"

"I turned eighteen this summer."

"Good. That makes you just old enough to be on the show. Would you mind stepping on that scale over there?"

"Er…I guess…but I don't really like to weigh myself."

"Well, that's something you would have to get used to if you were to go on the show."

"Alright…I'll get on the scale."

"Woo! One hundred sixty-five kilograms! That's roughly three hundred sixty-three pounds! I think we have a winner! How would you like to go to America next Friday to represent England on the hit TV show, The Biggest Loser?

"I would be honored…but I don't know how my parents would feel about me leaving Smeltings."

"Well how about you take your gap year now instead of after you finish your seventh form. You can finish your schooling after you get back from the show."

"Hmmm…I guess I'll do it."


	2. Chapter Two: Planes

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE GOING TO TAKE A YEAR OFF OF SMELTINGS!!!? I'VE ALREADY PRE-PAID YOUR TUITION!!! THE YEARS YOU SPEND AT SMELTINGS ARE THE MOST IMPORTANT YEARS OF YOUR LIFE!!! YOU CANNOT HAVE A GAP IN YOUR EDUCTAION!!!" screamed Vernon Dursley over the phone as he first heard the news that Dudley reluctantly told him.

"Look, Dad, I knew you wouldn't be happy when I told you, but the truth is, I don't care. This is something I have to do for myself. I've spent my whole life eating my feelings away, and when that didn't work, I would just beat people up until I felt better. I can't go on living this way. 'The Biggest Loser' can help me find who I really am, and I really need to lose weight. I'm not healthy."

"MY SON IS NOT A LOSER. I WILL HEAR NOTHING ELSE OF THIS NONSENSE!!! MAYBE YOUR MOTHER WILL BE ABLE TO PUT SOME SENSE INTO YOUR HEAD, BOY!" replied Vernon.

"Duddykins?" said Petunia as she picked up the phone. "You really don't need to lose weight. You're the handsomest boy I've ever seen. How about you just stay at Smeltings another year, and Daddy and I can buy you a nice, new car when you graduate?"

"Mommy, I know that you love me, but this is something I have to do. The show is going to pay for my plane ticket and everything, and since I'm eighteen, I don't need your consent. I just wanted to let you know. Bye, Mom."

"No, Duddy-Nuddy!! Don't go!!" bawled Petunia, but Dudley had already hung up the phone.

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Dudley slowly walked down the aisle of the plane. He had never flown before, and was feeling very nervous. Row 28, seat F. It looked so narrow.

He sucked in as much as he could, but he just couldn't make it into the seat. His rear end was hanging over the arm rests like two hefty holiday hams. He looked at the disgusted face of the girl who was seated next to him as he smashed her dainty frame against the window. He eventually gave up and called over the flight attendant.

"I'm sorry that the seats are not the proper size for your body-type, sir. If you like, you could buy another seat and put the arm rest up so you can fit."

"I'm so sorry to be such a burden. I promise, next time I come on a plane, I will only need one seat."

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"Oh dear. Oh deary me. My oh my. Oh deary. Oh my dear," said the little old lady sitting behind Dudley after he put his seat back. "Oh dear. I can't breath. Oh my dear. My oh my."

"I'm so sorry ma'am. I'll put my seat up right away," Dudley said quickly as he struggled with the lever.

"Oh dear. I think I'm having lung failure. Oh my."

SNAP!

"EEEEEEeeeeekkkkk! I'm stuck! Get me out of here!!! OH DEAR!!"

"I'm so sorry ma'am. I can't get the chair up! FLIGHT ATTENDANT! LITTLE OLD LADY DOWN!!! FLIGHT ATTENDANT!!!"

As soon as the flight attendant came to free little, old Beatrice from her prison of the reclining-chair, Dudley ran to the bathroom in shame. Well, he actually ran there because of all the bean burritos he ate before he got on the plane. But that's beside the point. It was a little hard for him to fit through the door, but persistance paid off and he was eventually able to squeeze into the bathroom.

But he couldn't squeeze out.

"FLIGHT ATTENDANT!!! SLIGHT PROBLEM!!!"

"Good God!" screamed an appalled flight attendant as she averted her eyes. "We're going to need some sort of pulley system to pull you out!"

Thirty minutes, and a few bruises later, Dudley Dursley was pulled out of the bathroom, and pulled his monstrously-sized pants up.

"I'm so sorry for all the times you had to help me today, miss."

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Meanwhile, back in England, the magical world was going on as normal…

"Sir, I think that Harry Potter has been messing with things that he shouldn't have, if you know what I mean."

"I've known for a while. I can feel my soul dying. But I'm not worried. I've hidden one of the horcruxes somewhere Harry will never find. It's been strategically placed overseas…

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Dudley Dursley was so happy when he got off the plane. For once, he didn't feel like the only fat kid in a world of skinny people. He was in America.

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a/n- hey guys! i hope u like my story…if you do, review, so i'll know whether or not to keep writing…and whether or not u like my story, u should go read my friend's story Ta Doulear. it's really good! it's a hermione-draco love story, with some unique plot twists, and it's pretty funny, and it has some good naughty scenes, if u kno what i mean. so go read it, you won't regret it. unlike how u probably regret reading my story.


	3. Chapter Three: And Automobiles

Voldemort frowned as he looked into his crystal ball. He normally wasn't reliant upon divination, but desperate times call for desperate measures. "Potter's cousin seems to be going to America. He's a muggle, and from what I understand, he and Potter don't get along, but I think he should be taken care of, just in case."

"W-would you like me to do it, s-sir?" stammered the pale, rat-faced man in front of him.

"Yes. Go to America right now, and get Dudley out of the way. Use magic. It shouldn't take that long, Wormtail."

"Y-yes, sir. I'll do it r-right away," he said as he disappeared into thin air.

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"This looks like a lot of people here…are you sure we're all going to fit on the bus?" asked Kami Kaze, the contestant from Japan once he saw the bus parked at the top of the hill.

"Don't worry, this bus fits fifty people, and only thirty-seven countries decided to participate in this season," replied the bus-driver.

"Alright, whatever you say," said Kami.

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Dudley did not feel well after watching everyone else single-file onto the bus. Kami was right; it did not look like the bus was big enough for everyone going to the ranch. Sure, the driver said that the bus fit fifty people, but the people going to the ranch were not the size of fifty normal people. Dudley was the last one in line. Could he fit? He put one foot on the first step of the bus. Everything seemed to be going fine. He stepped his second foot onto the bus.

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" screamed the bus-driver as he slid to the other side of the bus and lost his grip on the break.

"There's too much weight on the right side of the bus! Everyone run to the left side!" Huffed Augustus Gloop, the candidate from Germany.

"You talkin' to me?" asked Fat Tony, the candidate from Italy.

"I'm talking to everyone, now run!" Yelled Augustus, the sound of elephant feet roared as thirty-six large men and women slowly made their way to the other side of the bus. The driver slid back to the other side of the bus, attempting with all his might to grab the break of the bus, but he just couldn't grasp it. The bus was rolling quickly on two wheels down the hill with many contestants from the hit show "The Biggest Loser" smashed against the window. Was this how his life was going to end?

"Wow," said Peter Pettigrew as he watched from the woods. This job is going to be easier than I thought. Master will be so pleased."

But with an odd stroke of luck, some hungry members of the group noticed a tasty-looking rat through the window on the other end of the bus. The weight of the bus was able to even out when half the contestants started running to the worm-tailed creature with forks and knives on hand. This enabled the bus-driver to heroically step on the break once the weight was evenly distributed, and the bus came to an abrupt stop.

"We're gonna need another bus."

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Dudley Dursley stood around for fifteen minutes waiting for the second bus to come meet the group of people that were going to be on "The Biggest Loser." He wasn't used to standing that much, so his legs got tired quickly. He saw a bench nearby and decided to go sit on it. He was so tired and wanted to sit down so quickly, he didn't even notice the large rat sitting on the other end of the bench. He sat down as quickly as he could, and SNAP Dudley went crashing to the ground as the bench broke in half. The poor rat went flying as Dudley waddled as quickly as he could away from the bench, hoping that no one would notice.

Once the second bus arrived, everyone was able to split up and fit fairly comfortable on the bus, minus the fact that a few seat-belts snapped. Everyone was excited as they got closer and closer to the ranch.

"So what's your story?" Kami asked Dudley,

"What?"

"Why are you so fat? I used to be a sumo wrestler. One of the best in Japan, in fact. But then one day, during the Sumo Tournament of 1999, I was up against an armature, Yoshi Yamamoto. I didn't take the competition seriously enough, and I lost in the fifth round. I was laughed out of the stadium. I just couldn't take it. I quit sumo that day, but I never stopped eating. Now I am no muscle and all fat. How about you?" 

"Well, my parents just fed me a lot. I have this nasty cousin, Harry, and he came to live with us once his parents died, and compared to him, I guess I always just seemed like the perfect son to my parents. They never could admit that I had weight issues, and kept on feeding me, no matter how many clothes I outgrew and ripped."

"I understand," said Fat Tony, who overheard. "My father had a very profitable business that always kept him busy. He tried to make it up to me by buying me anything I wanted, but all I ever wanted was pasta and tiramisu, you know? Comfort foods. He wants me in the family business now, but I'm not sure if I want to get into that stuff. Right now, I just want to lose weight."

"I hear what you're saying. My job kind of involves gaining weight. People always leave cookies and milk out for me whenever I go to work," said Santa Clause, the candidate from the North Pole. "I'm trying to take some time during the off-season to lose a little bit of weight before next Christmas."

"I'm feeling you, too. I gained a bunch of weight after I won a life-time supply of free candy and a trip to the Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory a few years ago. And let's just say, I wasn't small to begin with."

"And the worst part is when people make fun of you," said Rosanne. "I've been on a television show for years, and I feel like the only reason people laugh is because I'm a big, fat lady."

"No, no, no!" laughed Santa. "The elves and I watch your show all the time, and we think it's hilarious!"

"You guys are so sweet," said Rosanne. "We should all stick together."

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Meanwhile, Pettigrew awoke from his deep slumber with a small cherry in his mouth, hogtied over a trashcan-fire in the middle of an alley-way. He changed back into his human form to escape the predicament he had gotten himself into, and ran away from the very confused and hungry-looking hobos. "I will have revenge on Dudley Dursley if it's the last thing I do," he said, gritting his teeth.


	4. Chapter Four: Words from the Soul

"Hello. Welcome to the ranch. I'm Caroline Rhea, the host of 'The Biggest Loser,' as some of you may already know. We won't start filming until tomarrow morning, but tonight, we're just going to try to get to know eachother a little bit. We've decided to make two teams of ten, so we're going to base who will make the cut on what we learn tonight. The activity I've prepared is to write poems about why we eat so much, and why we want to lose weight. I thought that it could help us learn a little bit about you and it will help you uncover your feelings about food so you can learn to overcome them. But I'm not sure that we'll have enough time now. You guys were supposed to arrive hours ago. What happened?"

"They saw a McDonald's on the way," the bus-driver piped up. "I told them we were on a tight schedule, but they wouldn't listen. A few of them teamed up against me and ripped me away from the stearing wheel."

"Oh. Well I guess that explains a few things," said Carline, looking at the black eyes and the scars on the bus-driver's face. "I thought you just changed your look."

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"So what's your poem about?" asked Santa. "I'm having a bit of trouble with mine. Should I mention how I'm beginning to suspect that Mrs. Clause is having an affair with Cookie the elf, or not? I mean, it's a bit personal."

"Gee, I don't know. All I've written about so far is how my parents babied me my whole life and just fed me whatever I wanted to keep me happy, and they never really cared about how healthy I was in the long-run. I'm thinking about mentioning my terrible cousin Harry too, but he's just so unpleasant," replied Dudley.

"In what way?" Augustus Gloop inquired.

"He's just so unpleasant."

"Yes, but how?" Rosanne wondered.

"He's the most unpleasant person I know."

"What's so unpleasant about him?" asked Kami.

"Well, he has this horrible cloud of unpleasantness surrounding him."

"But what causes this cloud?" asked the French pastry chef, Pierre.

"He is generally unpleasant."

"Unpleasant? You're complaining about him being unpleasant? God, you're a wimp," The Kentucky Fried Chicken Colonel commented in a nasty voice.

"No I'm not! He's really that unpleasant!"

"That sounds pretty bad. Would you like me to take care of him for you, if you know what I mean?" Fat Tony offered.

"No," Said Dudley. "I think I'll have to do this on my own."

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"Dudley needs your help," said a cool, misty voice.

"Wh-who is that, Professor?" asked a pale, quivering boy.

"Your cup tells me that you alone are the only one who can find the strengh to help a young man possibly save the fate of humankind forever."

"M-me?" he stammered.

"Yes. You must go to America right away, and find him. Take this compass which I've enchanted to point to where you must go. You may ride my broom. You must leave tonight."

"I-I-I'll do my best P-Professor. B-But h-how am I supposed to help?"

"There is a horcrux hidden near this boy called Dudley. I read in the stars that he must be the one who destroys it, if it's to be destroyed at all. But as he knows nothing of it. You must be the one to aid him in his quest. Don't worry, I can tell you what it is and where it is hidden, but you must pass the information onto Dudley. The fate of both the wizard and muggle world depends on you."

The pale, slightly chubby boy stared into the woman's large glasses, open-mouthed, in shock. Finally, he managed to squeak, "My gran will be so proud."

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"Wow!" Caroline Rhea exclaimed. "I'm so glad that you guys were able to finish your poems so quickly! This really makes it easier for us. Now we can finish something else tonight. If you've seen the show before, you probably know that everyone says the main reason they want to lose weight, and we write it on T-shirts for them. But this year, we were thinking of doing it a little bit differently. People were running out of unique reasons to lose weight last season, so the producers and I thought it would be a good idea if you guys wrote nicknames that captured your personality on your T-shirts instead. Just write your nickname at the bottom of the poem, put it up here, and then I'll show you to your rooms.

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"What do you guys think of The Clausinator?"

"I don't know. It doesn't seem to suit you too well. Do you think that Fat Tony counts as a nickname?"

"I think that's a good name. How does Master Baker sound?"

"Great," said Conor O'Reilly, the candidate from Ireland. "The reason I can't lose weight is because I drink so much, so I want to have my nickname show that somehow, and whenever I drink, I always start to sing. Do what do you think of Tequila Mockingbird would work?"

"That's a wonderful name. Dudley, what's your nickname going to be?" the Colonel asked.

"I don't know. I'm trying to think of something that mentions the inner strength I'm trying to bring out in myself, but I can't think of a really good work that describes that."

"Well…" said the Colonel, the gears in his head turing quickly, "how about…constipated?"

Dudley, who unfortunatly should have spent less time beating people up at school and more time studying was forced to ask, "What does that mean?"

"Really, really strong."

"Hmm…that does sound intelligent and strong. This one time at the zoo, my unpleasant cousin, Harry, set a snake on me, and I would also encorporate that into my nickname though, to symbolize how I am conquoring my fears."

"Good idea," said Kami, who did not know that much english, so he couldn't help Dudley understand what constipated really meant. "How about the Constipated Snake?"

"That's a great name! You guys are awesome," said Dudley, with much gratitude. "What's your nickname going to be, Colonel?"

"Kill Friendly Chickens. It's what KFC really stands for," he replied.

"Oh…that's…nice…wait a second. I just realized something. Aren't you and Rosanne both from America?"

"Oh no. She's Canadian, but she moved to America because she thought it would help her career."

"Oh, okay then."

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A balding rat sat in the corner, listening intently to the conversation going on around him. He decided right then and there, that if he was going to be collaborating with anyone, it would be with the Colonel.

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"It's going to take us all night to go through these poems," Caroline whined.

"Don't think of it that way," said Jim Bean, one of the producers. "Some of them are actually pretty good. Like this one by Dudley Dursley. He keeps on talking about how unpleasant his cousin is; it's really deep."

"Unpleasant? That sound terrible! He should definitely make it on the show. Oh the horrors he must suffer," commented another producer, Bob Thompson. "Let me read it"

"I want to read it next," said Caroline.

"Wow! This is amazing. I love how he uses "magic" as a metaphor for Harry's fast metabolism," Bob said admiringly.

"Yeah. My favorite part is how he said that Harry's friend, Hagrid, made him sprout a pig-tail. Hagrid must be another really skinny person that brings him down," said Jim.

"I think he might be able to win this competition," said Caroline.

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A/N- hey, sorry it took me so long to update… i had finals, and i'm working full time this summer…but hopefully my next chapter won't take me so long, now that i know where i'm going with this… i hope you enjoyed… and i would like to give credit to my friend pawel for coming up with the pun tequila mockingbird…oh, and by the way, i'm don't think that rosanne is really from canada, i just said that cuz i realized right after i wrote the charicter that i had two competitors from america


	5. The Workout that didn't Work Out

"Wake up, Dudley," said the Colonel as he viciously shook Dudley.

"Uuuuunnnngggghhh," Dudley groaned. "I'll get up in a minute, mummy. Just let me sleep a few more minutes."

"Come on, wake up, you ugly son of a bitch. It's time for breakfast and then the first workout. Here's your T-shirt, Constipated Snake."

"Mummy, don't call me that. I'll always be your Dinky Diddykins."

"Get up, you fatass!"

"No, mummy. Don't make me work out. I'll only wake up if I have bacon and eggs for breakfast!"

"Dudley, you better wake up or I'll slap you."

"Mummy, go make Harry make breakfast. You're little popkin is too tired."

Rosanne, who got a little mixed up and accidentally slept in the boys' room, overheard the Colonel and Dudley's conversation, and decided to intervene. "Dudley, you can only have breakfast if you wake up. Then we can all go downstairs and get it."

"No, Mummy. I want breakfast in bed."

After much pushing, pulling, and swearing, Dudley was eventually dragged into the dining hall downstairs, and blushed furiously once he realized where he was. "I'm so sorry. Just ignore everything I said earlier, okay?"

"No problem, popkin. Just eat your fruit cup," said Rosanne, shoving as many grapes in her mouth that she could fit.

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"Hi, I'm Jillian Michaels."

"And I'm Bob Harper. We'll be your trainers until the end of the show. This morning, we are going to weigh you, and then we'll do our fist workout few workouts as one big team. Then, by the end of the week, we will form two smaller teams, a red one and a blue one, and everyone who makes one of those will be competing to become the Biggest Loser. Everyone else will have to be sent home. Good luck!"

"Alright!" said and excited Jillian. "We're going to start with a mile jog. Please try to jog, but you may walk if you must."

The thunderous stampede of thirty-seven rather large men and women attempting a light trot along the valley was so loud Dudley thought he would be deaf by the end of it. What did he get himself into? What was he wheezing after only taking three steps? If he was on a level playing field with all the other morbidly obese contestants, why was he so far behind everyone else?

"Come on," Jillian said encouragingly as she sped by, "you can do it…um…what does your shirt say…?"

"The…Constipated…Snake," Dudley somehow managed to say while struggling to catch his breath.

"Well…that's…creative…I guess…" Jill replied. "Don't worry. You'll be in shape in no time at all. If you're struggling too much with the jog, you can just power walk for now."

"Good idea," said Dudley. "This is harder than I thought it would be. I mean, I used to box at school, but punching people is so much easier than actually moving."

"Well once you get your heart rate up every day, it'll become much easier for you," Bob noted.

"I hope so," said Dudley, unconvinced.

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"Come on guys! We're going to do three sets of twenty jumping jacks! Let's go! You can do it!" Jillian yelled.

"Oh bloody hell," Dudley muttered, his over-large breasts flowing freely as he did his jumping jacks. "I think I'm going to need a sports bra for my moobs."

"Shut up," said Jillian, who overheard Dudley talking to himself in a sad, lonely manner. "I always get jealous when a guy's tatas are bigger than mine. Guys aren't even supposed to have boobs!"

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"Alright, time for an upper body workout for strength and conditioning," said Bob. "We're going to start with some chin-ups."

"Finally," thought Dudley. "All my boxing skills will finally come in handy. I'm sick of making a fool of myself in all the cardio exercises. Now I'll actually be able to do something. I do weigh training so often for boxing."

But little did he know, lifting himself up was so much harder than lifting weights. He could barely fit his excessive amount of wobbling chins over the bar.

"Clearly this isn't working out, Dudley. How about you move onto push-ups?" Bob suggested.

"I guess that's a good idea. Push-ups seems like they'll be a little bit easier."

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Peter Pettigrew watched as the ambulance pulled up so it could rush Dudley to the hospital. "Wow," he thought. "Maybe I really won't have to do anything to get revenge on Dudley. It really does seem like he'll be able to do it himself. I'll just follow him there just in case.

Wormtail climbed into the ambulance while everyone was crowding around Dudley. There was so much hustle and bustle that no one even noticed a rat slip into the car.

"On the count of three, lift! One…two…THREE!!!" yelled the ambulance driver.

"It's…no…use!" the doctor panted. No matter how many men we have, we won't be able to lift this stretcher into the ambulance."

"Don't say that!" shouted another doctor. "We will never leave anyone behind, no matter how heavy they are!"

"I keep on telling you guys, you really don't have to lift me up," squeaked Dudley. "And I really don't need a stretcher. I just sprained my wrist."

"Don't listen to him," said the second doctor. "He's delirious. We just need more man power to get him into the car. Hey, you."

"Yes?" answered Rosanne.

"Help us get this patient into the car. We're relying on you!"

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After many spirited attempts, the hard work and effort finally paid off. Dudley went to the hospital, had a cast placed on his broken wrist, and was going to be sent back to the ranch immediately, where he would enjoy a quick recover, while still being able to do cardio workouts.

"There's just one more thing," said the doctor. It's our hospital's policy that when a patient is being discharged, they have to be taken out in a wheel chair, even if they can walk. It'll only take a moment. We just have to wait for our volunteer, Edna, to come over here with a wheelchair."

"I'm here," said a little old lady, pushing a wheelchair towards Dudley and the doctor. "Is this the handsome, young man I'm supposed to be pushing out of the hospital?"

"Yes, Edna."

"Just sit right here, young man, and you'll be out in a jiffy."

Dudley looked at the wheelchair. "Oh crap," he thought. "There's no way I'm getting in that little chair."

No one sucked in or squeezed himself anymore than Dudley did that day. But no matter what he did, he was unable to fit his buns, the size of two Thanksgiving turkeys, into the wheelchair.

"No worries," said Edna. I think there's a bigger chair somewhere. Let me go take a quick look."

Edna arrived back an hour later with a larger chair. "Here you go. I knew it was somewhere. I found it all the way in the back of the janitor's closet behind some old broomsticks."

"Broomsticks, did you say?" pondered Bob, who had gone to the hospital to check on Dudley. "Hmm…that gives me an idea for the first challenge."

"Thanks for going through so much trouble just for me," said Dudley as he sat comfortably into the chair. Five minutes later, he said. "I'm ready. How come we're not going anywhere?"

"I'm trying!" said Edna. "I can't move you! You're too heavy!"

Dudley put his pudgy finger to his eye to wipe away a tear of shame. "That's okay. I'll wheel myself out." But as hard as he tried, his broken wrist did not allow him to move the wheels on his chair. Finally, through the joined efforts of Michael, the doctor, and Edna, Dudley was able to leave the hospital.

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Wormtail shook his front paw in rage as he saw Dudley in perfect health. "Maybe I'll team up with the Colonel. Dudley must be stopped!"


	6. Chapter Six: Rat, Bat, and Fat

The Colonel was alone in his room, looking for a place to hide his diet pills. They had just been put into teams, and he could already tell that his team was less than fond of him. He would need to lose a lot of weight in order for his team not to boot him off. Under the mattress? No. That was too obvious. In the closet? No. Too many people used that closet. Hmmm…the only decent hiding spot seemed to be in the desert pantry. With all the dieting going on, it didn't seem like many people would be going in there. The door creaked open…he looked through all the shelves…where was the best place to hide the pills? Behind the Twinkies? Behind the brownies? But wait! Something appeared to already be behind the brownies. What could that be? Oh surely it couldn't be. A rat?!

Oh no. Surely he must be going crazy. Rats don't suddenly turn into fully-grown, chubby men. And they most certainly don't start talking.

"Er…H-hi…I know that this may s-seem, well, er, a-awkward, with you being a muggle and all. Y-you're not used to things like this, a-are you? Well, anyway...I need your help…Y-you know that kid, Du-Dudley?" the rat-man said nervously.

"You mean that loser that my team likes to much? I hate him so much, but nobody's ever going to want to vote him off. I would do anything to see him lose the competition," the Colonel answered.

"I s-see. I think that we can h-help each other. Y-you w-want h-him to l-l-lose…and I w-want him d-d-dead," stammered the rat-man.

"Dead you say? Well, I could never sink that low," the Colonel informed the filthy rat-man, using his most dignified voice. "Oh, who am I kidding. When do we start? What's your plan?"

"I'm glad you asked," said the rat-man, sounding much more confident now.

It didn't matter to the Colonel how a rat turned into a man before his eyes, whether or not he was going crazy, or that the rat-man ate the best hiding-spot for his pills; he just wanted to see Dudley go down.

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"Are you guys ready for your first challenge? I put together something really fun for you guys today. We've invented a new sport for you guys to play," said Bob, while the camera was getting set up in the background. "We don't have a name for it yet, but we'll explain the rules, and you can practice a little before the challenge before we actually start filming. But take the practicing seriously, because the members of the team that wins this challenge each win a brand new stationary bicycle. But right now, we need to think of a name for the sport. Any ideas?"

"A stationary bicycle? What the hell is that crap? I wish I was like Connor, and I hid in a ditch," the Colonel muttered to whoever would listen.

"What did you say, Colonel? Quidditch?" Bob asked. "That's an interesting name. I kind of like it."

"Okay, so we have a name, now let's explain the rules. The game is played with four balls. Three people from each team chase this big, red ball, and throw it into one of the three hoops we set up on each end of the field. The blue team will be aiming for this side, and the red team will be aiming for that side over there. Each goal is worth ten points. The people chasing the ball will be called 'chasers,' but we have no idea what to call the ball."

Augustus Gloop chose this moment to mutter, "I don't want to play this stupid game. I'm sick of diet and exercise. I just want a waffle."

"What did you say? Quaffle? That's a great name! You guys are so creative," Jillian exclaimed. "Now these next two balls will be hit back and forth by two "beaters" trying to hit players from the other team. Don't worry, it may sound dangerous, but they're actually pretty harmless. I'll show you."

"Bloody hell!!!" Dudley screamed, as one of the balls Jillian sent his way went whizzing by his head.

Bob, who had mistaken Dudley's cry of terror for an idea to name the balls, said, "Well, we can't call the balls 'bloody hello.' But we can call them something similar. How about…um…blood…blud…bludgers! What do you guys think of bludgers?"

That's a wonderful name," the Colonel replied in a saccharine voice. "Can I be a beater?"

"Your teams can decide on the positions after you practice," said Jillian. "But we still have two more positions and one more ball to explain. The last ball is basically just a golf ball that we painted gold and hot-glued some wings that I bought at a craft store on it. Bob and I are going to throw it back and forth across the field, and one person from each team will seek it and try to catch it. the person who catches it ends the game and earns one hundred fifty points for their team. The people trying to catch it are called seekers, but what should the ball be called?"

"How about the 'snatch?'" Rosanne suggested. "Because they have to snatch the ball."

"Good idea," said Bob. "And of course, the last position is the goal-keeper, or keeper for short. So get practicing. Good luck!"

"Oh wait," Jillian interrupted. "We almost forgot to mention the special twist. To really mix things up, we decided to have you guys pretend like you were flying on broomsticks. So everyone grab a broom, and go have fun!"

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A sinister plan had already formed in the Colonel's mind. He had to prove that he was the best beater on the team, so Morgan, the captain, would let him play beater in the game. Only then, he would be able to beat Dudley Dursley to his downfall.

He whacked the ball so hard, his arm flab started jiggling like Jell-O.

"Wow, the Colonel's a pretty good beater," captain Morgan noticed. "As much as I don't like him, I suppose that I'll have to start him in the game, because I really want that stationary bicycle."

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Neville Longbottom wandered to the outskirts of the ranch, completely lost and confused. For days, he had been looking for Dudley to help him achieve his destiny of finding the last horcux so Harry Potter could defeat Lord Voldemort once and for all. But the only problem was that he couldn't remember that spell that made his wand point North. Would he ever arrive?

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"Who in their right mind would make me the bloody seeker for this game?" though Dudley as the camera man yelled, "Action!"

"The first challenge the contestants have to face is to play a new sport invented by 'The Biggest Loser's' very own trainers," Caroline Rhea said to the camera. Dudley tried to listen as she explained the complicated rules to the people at home, but how could he possible concentrate when he had to think about the embarrassment to come?

The next thing he knew, his thick legs were straddling a thin broomstick, and he was running around looking for a golf ball that was peeling gold paint and had one feather hot-glued to it. Rosanne had tried to eat the other one.

Viewers had not seen a sadder sight in the history if 'The Biggest Loser.' Fourteen morbidly obese people were waddling around with brooms between their legs. But the person that it looked strangest to was standing right beyond the sidelines, just barely unnoticed due to the thick woods next to the Quidditch field.

"Is this where I'm supposed to be?" thought Neville. "I thought that Muggles didn't play Quidditch." So he got as close as he dared, while trying with all his stealth not to be seen or heard, and attempted to listen to some conversation that might indicate whether or not he was in the right place. But all he could hear was:

"Oh God, he hit me in the shin!"

"Who the hell made this guy a beater?"

He's hit three chasers and a keeper already, and two of them were on his own team!"

"We'll let it go this time, Colonel, but if you don't watch out, we're going to have to sub you out. I don't believe that all these injuries are really accidents."

He couldn't possible be in the right place. Muggles didn't know anything about Quidditch, so surely this must be some sort of get-together between a few witches and wizards of America. He couldn't risk being seen, but he could at least try to do them one little favor before he left. Those brooms were clearly not properly bewitched. But he could fix that with a simple incantation. "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

"Ho ho NO!!" he heard a man with a curly, white beard bellow. "What's going on? First I have to put up with the hot climate, then they tell me I can't eat cookies if I want to lose weight, and now THIS?! Well let me tell you this, I am not going anywhere off the ground unless there are at least eight tiny reindeer in front of me!!!"

Up, up, and up they all rose, until they eventually all hovered about fifty feet in above the ground. As all of them were muggles, none of them were prepared for anything like this to happen, and all of them were clinging onto their cleaning utensil for dear life. But not The Colonel. He had become more prepared for surprises of this sort since he saw that rat turn into a fully grown rat before his eyes. Instead of screaming in terror, like the other contestants, the Colonel started swinging his bat like a mad man. All he had to do was knock that horrible Dudley Dursley off his broom.

"AAAAAaahhhhh!! He's trying to kill me!!" Dudley screamed.

"Turn the cameras off! This isn't going as planned!" Caroline Rhea frantically yelled.

"They won't turn off! The button's broken!" the spastic camera man squealed.

"What idiot came up with this idea?!" demanded Jillian, as she threw the first thing she could grasp at Bob in frustration.

"I thought it would be cute if they ran around pretending to ride broomsticks," said Bob, dodging the ball Jillian had thrown at him.

In attempt to escape the Colonel's threatening blows, Dudley jumped off his broom without thinking, and started falling quickly towards the ground. He tried to open his mouth to scream, but something fell into his mouth before any sound could come out. He landed on the ground with a painful thud, aware that all the cameras were pointed towards him. He stood up, and coughed out a golden golf ball.

"Oh…" thought Neville. "I see the family resemblance now. That _must_ be Harry Potter's cousin. That's his signature Quidditch move. Seeking must run in the family. Oops."

"He caught the snitch!" yelled Bob, desperately trying to redeem his game. "One hundred fifty points towards the blue team! The blue team wins! Everyone on the blue team gets a brand new stationary bicycle!"

Dudley Dursley looked up at the smiling faces of the blue team, and realized that for just this once, he may have done something right in his life. Sure, it was accidentally, but it's still got to count for something.

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a/n- sorry it's been over two months since i've last updated, but i got so caught up with working full time, and i had a lot of ap homework to do this summer, and now i'm applying to colleges, and i kno i said that i would update soon, but i'm just generally a slow person, so i'll go as fast as i can (which is about as fast as Dudley trying to run a mile). hopefully u enjoyed, and hopefully i'll actually update soon


	7. Chapter Seven: Oh, the Temptation

**Disclaimer:** i've noticed that many other stories that i've been reading lately have had disclaimers, so i thought it'd be fun to put one in. so here it goes: all the characters in this story either belong to harry potter, the biggest loser, rosanne, charlie and the chocolate factory, the christmas season, etc.

The excitement from the mysterious flying broomsticks had died down a bit over the next two days, and most people just told themselves that it was all a hallucination due to hunger. Bob realized that he accidentally said that Dudley caught the "snitch" instead of the "snatch," since he was so flustered, but luckily no one noticed from all the excitement, and he decided that "snitch" just felt like a better name for the ball anyway. But now that the challenge was over and done with, Bob had to set up for his next big project: the temptation. He did his best to be creative and exciting for the challenge, and after that disaster, he desperately wanted to redeem himself. He slaved away all night setting up the temptation, and finally, he had a life-size chess board set up. Each contestant was to imitate a chess piece, and whoever got kicked off the board had to uncover what was under one of the platters set up on the table along the side of the board, and eat it. Some of the things would be healthy, such as carrot sticks and celery, but some things would pack on the pounds, such as cookies and French fries. The people on the winning team at the end of the game would be allowed to call their families for half an hour, whether or not they had been sacrificed earlier in the game. Everyone was to meet outside in the field where the chess board had been set up right after lunch.

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"I-I-I kn-know that our l-last plan f-f-failed, but I still haven't giv-given up hope. M-my master gave me the i-instructions for a p-p-potion designed to s-stop the heart. I-i-it took me a while to b-brew, but I just finished it this m-m-morning. Y-you c-c-could easily slip this into Dudley's drink at l-lunch today."

"Hmm…good thinking. This plan should be easy enough."

"Uh-oh," thought the pale, round boy, hiding in the cupboard. "I better put a stop to that nasty plan."

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Dudley Dursley stood in the kitchen with his stomach grumbling. He had such a terrible craving for bacon, but he knew that he had to stick to his low fat diet if he wanted to be happy with himself. He got the wheatgrass out of the cupboard and grabbed a blender. He wanted to give his smoothie a bit of flavor, so he went out to the garden to pick some fresh strawberries, while he left the rest of the ingredients in the blender until he got back.

The Colonel, who was pretending to measure how much lettuce he was aloud to have in his salad, quickly made sure no one was looking and slipped the potion into the blender. Luckily for him, the potion was clear and scentless, so Dudley would never suspect a thing.

But luckily for Dudley, Neville had been hiding in the cupboard, with a small crack open so he could see, and he knew what he had to do. It was a simple vanishing spell he had learned in Transfiguration, and Hermione helped him get it down pat right before taking his OWLs. As to not call attention to himself, he just pointed his wand and said the incantation in his head.

Nothing happened.

He knew that the potion was colorless, but it should at least look like there was less food in the blender. He tried again.

Nothing happened.

Dudley walked into the room, holding some fresh strawberries and a banana. He waddled over to the sink to wash the strawberries.

Neville pointed his wand at the blender again and softly whispered the incantation, hoping that that would help.

Nothing happened.

Jillian, who was the trainer for the blue team, walked into the kitchen at that time and saw Dudley making his smoothie. "Good choice! Wheatgrass juice is really healthy, and strawberries and bananas have a ton of nutrients. Want me to help you slice that banana?

"Sure, thanks. I'm kind of in a hurry; it's almost time for the temptation."

"No problem."

Neville hoped that they would keep on talking to that they wouldn't notice when he kept on whispering the incantation over and over again, hoping that he would eventually get results. But nothing was happening! They were so close to finishing the smoothie. They had all the fruit in the blender, and it was spinning, chopping everything into little pieces. But Neville could tell that the potion was still in there.

Dudley poured the smoothie into a glass, and pressed the glass to his lips.

"Hang on a second," said Jill. Before you drink that, let me go to the cupboard, and grab some cinnamon. It really makes a difference; that smoothie will taste so much better."

"Oh no!" thought Neville. He really had to move fast now. Giving up on that incantation all together, he quickly mumbled another one and apparated into the woods right before Jillian opened the door.

"Here's the cinnamon," she said before turning around. "Oh wow, you finished the smoothie already? Okay, well I guess you can try this next time if you want. Come on, let's go, or we'll be late for the challenge."

"Er…what happened to my smoothie?" Dudley muttered quietly, before making his way outside with his grumbling stomach.

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A group of thirty-two hefty, multicultural people looked at the field in confusion. But when Caroline explained to them what they would be doing that day, they all smiled. It didn't sound that hard, and they had a possible chance of calling home. They only hoped that they wouldn't have to eat one of those dreaded, fatty snacks that would pack on the pounds.

"The blue team will be the will represent the black pieces, and the red team will represent the white pieces. White always moves first in chess, so everybody has half an hour to designate which piece everyone on the team will be, and then to pick any sort of strategy they may have. Then the white team can make their first move," Caroline informed them. "You may start discussing now. "

The two teams each formed a huddle. Dudley joined the rest of the blue team, looking a bit nervous. He never really had the patience for chess, and he really wanted to call his mummy, so he hoped that some one on his team would have some experience in chess.

"Does anyone know what their doing?" Rosanne inquired.

"This is the first time I'm actually upset that the Colonel isn't on our team," said Connor. "He's so good at chess."

"We're going to lose this temptation for sure. And I can't afford to eat any more pie," said Rosanne. "Ooops. Did I say more?"

"Well I know a little bit about chess," said Kami. "I can help you out by telling you what to do." And Kami proceeded to tell all the people on the blue team which piece they should be, and they all picked up a sign saying what they were. Dudley was a bishop.

"And what about you?" Augustus Gloop asked.

"I'm going to be a knight," said Kami.

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A white pawn moved forward two squares.

Kami started to direct the blue team. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Dudley's pudgy knees were trembling. What if they lost?

"Dudley—move diagonally four squares to the right. "

Their first real shock came when their other knight was taken. He removed the cover off one of the plates on the side of the board and was forced to eat…CHOCOLATE!!! It was horrifying, and yet so delicious-looking.

"Had to let that happen," said Kami, looking hungry. "Leaves you free to take that bishop, Santa, go on."

Every time one of their men was lost, the plates showed no mercy. Due to the luck of the draw, each plate a member of their team uncovered was full of either pastries or fried foods. The only plates with celery sticks and carrots were eaten by the red team. And the Colonel really did know what he was doing. He had cleared so many black "pieces" off the board, it would take a miracle for the blue team to win.

But Kami saw a way he could potentially capture the king. "We're almost there," he muttered suddenly. "Let me think—let me think…"

"Yes…" said Kami softly, "it's the only way…Dudley's got to be taken."

"NO!" Rosanne and Santa shouted. (They had taken a particular liking to the young man.)

"That's chess!" snapped Kami. "We've got to make some sacrifices! If he takes one step diagonally to the left, the queen will take him, and that will leave me free to checkmate the king!"

Everyone looked at the board and realized that there was no alternative. Although Dudley did not want to eat a dreaded donut or a horrifying hamburger, he would gladly do it for the team.

He moved diagonally to the left, and the queen pushed him toward the plates of food. He slowly lifted the cover off the first one he saw, dreading what was hidden beneath it.

He gasped.

There was a rat with a few powdered-sugar crumbs on his whiskers.

"That's not sanitary. He can't eat that!" cried Jillian. "Who put that there? This is an outrage!"

"That's alright, he doesn't have to eat it. Besides, it just ran into the woods," Caroline said right before Kami checkmated the white king, the Colonel.

The Colonel lifted the cover off one of the plates, and revealed a large basket of French fries.

Dudley was happy that he didn't have to eat any fatty foods, and he was finally able to call his mummy, whom he missed very much.

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"Oh my little Duddydunkins! I've missed you so much! How's my little popkin enjoying America?"

"Mummy, please. Could you stop with the pet names for a bit? The cameras are on."

"Who has been taking care of my little Duddy Wuddy? Have you been getting enough to eat? I know you're trying to lose weight, but you're still my little growing boy!"

"Oh, Mummy. I've been getting more than enough to eat my whole life. And I've been working hard all week, and I don't want to ruin it. The big first weigh-in is tomorrow, and I don't want to be sent home."

"Oh, I'm sure you have them all charmed Dudders. Who would want to vote you off? Unless they're jealous of how handsome you are. By the way, I hope that they're filming you enough. There would be no point in anyone watching the show unless they got to see your cute, little, angel face."

"Thanks, Mummy."

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It was two hours before the first weigh-in. Dudley didn't know whether or not he should have anything for breakfast that morning. He didn't want anything in his stomach to show up on the scale, but then again, he didn't want to pass out during the last chance workout. He eventually just decided to grab a Slimfast, and headed towards the gym.

He was the first member of the blue team to arrive, so he got on the stair-master. He desperately tried to shed off an extra pound before the moment of fate.

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Three hours later, the blue team sat in the common room, sulking.

"How did it go?" Jillian dared to ask.

"We all lost a lot of weight, but it just wasn't enough. The red team won this week's weigh-in," Dudley replied.

"That's okay. You guys worked really hard. You'll get it next time."

"But what I thought was suspicious, was how much weight the Colonel lost. I could have sworn I'd heard him go to the kitchen to sneak a few treats in the middle of the night. One time, I woke during the night to go to the bathroom, and I could've sworn that I saw him standing over the kitchen counter wolfing an entire cake into his mouth. I don't even know where he could've gotten that," Augustus mentioned.

"It just sucks that one of us is going to have to go home. I have no idea who I'm going to vote for to leave tonight," Santa said.

"Me too," everyone else agreed.

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The vote was unanimous. As much as he really cheered up the room, and despite the fact the when he laughed, his tummy would jiggle like a bowl full of jelly, but he just had to go. He even voted for himself to leave. He couldn't stand it that long without any cookies, and the only milk he was aloud to drink was skim. Besides, no one wants a skinny Santa.

Santa packed up his sleigh, and headed back towards the North Pole that very night. And the next morning, everyone on the blue team found a small gift in one of their socks. It was Santa's special way of saying good-bye.

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A young couple held hand while riding a gondola down one of the beautiful canals of Venice. The pretty, young lady was admiring the diamond ring her new fiancé had just given her, and leaned in to kiss him, when suddenly, a wheatgrass juice smoothie fell on her head.

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a/n- woo! it took me less than two weeks to update! i think i deserve a cookie! Charlito, if ur reading this, u owe me an update on Ta Deouler (sp).


	8. Chapter Eight: Neville the Nuisance

When Dudley woke up in the morning, he could tell that he was getting slimmer; he could walk more easily, he stopped having trouble breathing while he was working out, he was able to finish the 5k race the trainers had set up for the last challenge, and his butt was even able to fit on a single chair. He had only been at the ranch for a month, and already he could tell that there were some serious changes in his body, and they were all for the better.

But he had one main problem area. No matter how hard he tried, his stomach insisted on protruding from his body like he was carrying a large beach ball under his shirt. He did crunches daily, gave up trans fats, and even tried a Japanese massage technique Kami taught him that was designed to remove fat from certain parts of the body. But nothing worked. And one day, while he was checking out his large tummy in the mirror, he was greeted by an unexpected visitor.

"Hello, Dudley."

"Aaaaahhhh!" Dudley screamed as he jumped (another sign that he was getting slimmer. He used to never be able to get off the ground.). Where did you come from? And what was that noise?"

"I apparated, of course. And that's what made the noise."

"What are you talking about? And don't say it has anything to do with magic. I have a terrible feeling that it does."

"Well, I don't know how many ways to say this, so I'll just say it. I know your cousin, Harry, from school. I've been watching you ever since you've been here so I could help you help him with a mission he's doing. I've been trying to keep a low profile, and only help you when you need it, but I can see now that you have no idea what you're doing, and will not be able to destroy the horcrux unless I tell you a bit more about it. So what do you say? Would you like to team up with me to help save the world?"

"Get out."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Get out. I refuse to have anything to do with magic, and I especially refuse to have anything to do with my dreadful cousin, Harry. If you don't want me to use the new Martial Arts techniques we learned during workouts today on you, I would suggest you leave right now."

"But I heard that before you and your family went into hiding, you said that you didn't think that Harry just took up space. Don't you remember that? He saved your life from the demetors."

"That doesn't mean I like him."

"Dudley! This is important! Even if you don't like him, if you destroy the horcrux, you can return the favor and save his life, and the lives of many other innocent people. And you and your family won't be in hiding anymore. By the way, you're not really doing a very good job of keeping a low profile, are you?"

"Eh. I feel like this whole 'You-Know-Who' thing will blow over by the time that this television show is on the air. But, anyway, if I destroy this little 'horcrux' thing for you, what's in it for me?"

"Well…I thought I just said what was in it for you—you'll pay Harry back for saving your life, you'll save many people muggles all throughout Europe, and your family can come out of hiding."

"Yeah…but that's not really that exciting. I mean, I want something that you don't really come across every day. And I want it to be something I really enjoy, not something that I just feel obligated to do for people."

"Hm….alright…well, then…how about a doughnut?"

"WHAT? HOW DARE YOU INSULT ME LIKE THAT? AND TEMPT ME! I'M ON A DIET FOR CHRIST'S SAKE! FIRST YOU MENTION HARRY, AND NOW DOUGHNUTS! GET OUT NOW!!!"

"No, no no! That's not what I meant! I meant a…low-fat doughnut?"

"Yeah, I really want a diet doughnut. That sounds really appetizing. I'll go help my dreadful, hated cousin for a low-fat doughnut."

"Excellent. Now just grab my hand, and we can apparate to where I think the horcux is."

"I was being sarcastic."

"Oh. Damn. I probably should've caught on to that."

"Yes. You should have. So what's your next offer?"

"Well…I could give you…er…would you like a nice…er…oh, I don't know. Why don't you just tell me what you want?"

"I want a pony."

"A pony?"

"Yes. All my life, I've my hands have been too chubby to hold the reigns, and now, I think that I'll be able to finally do it. That was half the reason I agreed to come to this ranch: to be near the ponies. And let me tell you, I was very disappointed when I learned that the stables were replaced with a gym. If you give me a pony, I'll destroy anything you want me to."

"Er…okay…a pony it is then. Just grab my hand and we can apparate to a different stable, and we can pick you out a nice pony. Oh, wait. You're still on the run, so before we go, we should probably get you a disguise."

"Good point. But wouldn't it look suspicious if I took someone else's clothes?"

"That's alright. You forget that I'm a wizard. Just a little flick of my wand, and you'll be properly disguised in no time."

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"You call this properly disguised? Look at me! I look ridiculous!"

"It was the first thing I could think of! And I don't think you look too bad. In fact, I think you look quite fashionable."

Dudley stood in the middle of the West Branch Stables wearing a long, green dress, fox-fur scarf, carrying a large, red handbag, and wearing a tall, green hat with a stuffed vulture on top.

"Get me my pony."

"Alright, alright, alright. But you have to remember your part of the bargain. As soon as we get you a pony, you have to help me find and destroy the horcrux."

"Wait a minute. You don't even know where the horcrux is?"

"Well, I have a general idea, but no. I'm not entirely sure where it is."

"Oh, God," Dudley sighed. "How long is this going to take? When you said that you needed me to destroy the horcrux I thought that you just wanted me to sit on it, or something."

"Er…no. Let's just get the pony and get out of here before anyone sees us."

"Hello, there!" said the stable manager, waving at them politely behind a nearby fence. "I'm Jake Smith, the owner of this ranch. I didn't see you guys come in here. Are you two here to go riding?"

"Actually, we're looking to buy a pony," Dudley answered.

"Oh, really? Well, that's a relief. To be honest, I wouldn't have been able to let you ride one of the horses while you're in your condition. It just wouldn't be safe."

"What condition?"

"Oh, well…you know…"

"No, I don't. What condition?"

"Um…well…the condition of…how about I get you two something to drink while I show you around the stables?"

"That sounds great! I'll take a sprite!" said Neville, glad that Jake had tried to change the subject. "What would you like, wife?"

"I don't want anything, shut up because I'll never be your wife, and I want to know what my condition is!"

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Fifteen minutes later, Dudley was petting a lovely, brown pony while drinking the sprite (it was actually a diet sprite) he had stolen from Neville.

"He's my favorite pony so far. Do you have a carrot, or a sugar cube that I could feed him?"

"Yeah, here are a few sugar cubes. But just to warn you, he can get a little rambunctious when he sees sugar."

And sure enough, when that little, brown pony laid eyes on those sugar cubes, he started bucking up a storm, and knocked Dudley's sprite all over the floor.

"SOMEBODY CALL 911!!! WE NEED TO GET THIS LADY TO A HOSPITAL!!!!!"

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"No, no, no! I swear to God, I'm fine! Get me out of this ambulance!"

"I think she's delirious from the pain! We need to get her to the hospital fast to see how much she's dialated."

"WHAT!!! Get me out, right now!"

"Stay calm, ma'am. You don't want to bring that baby out into a stressful environment."

"What the bloody hell are you quacks talking about? I'm not pregnant!"

"Drive faster. Her delirium is more serious than we thought.

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No matter how much Dudley struggled with the doctors, he could not escape them. No matter how much Neville tried waving his wand and muttering incantations, the only thing that would happen was that one of the doctors kept on mysteriously looking more and more like Jesus.

Once Dudley was forced into the hospital bed, he felt as though he had to pull his final card. "You, guys seriously have to let me go. I'm not pregnant. I'm a boy!"

"You're right," said the obstetrician. "She really is delirious with pain. We better get her an epidural right away. You can let her husband into the room now, but no one else.

Shortly after, Neville walked into the room. "I'm so sorry about this. To be honest, I thought it was a great disguise."

"I don't care about that now! Just get us out of here! You can even use magic if you must, I just don't want them looking at parts that I can't even see when I try to look down."

"I've been trying, but the nurses are always so close, and I don't want anyone to see. We might have to break out the muggle way. Good thing we're on the first floor."

"Okay, fine. But we better leave now before the doctor gets back with the epidural."

"Here I am," said the doctor as he opened the door. "I ran as fast as I could, since I figured that you must be pretty far along since you're in so much pain. Let me just take a look."

"NO! You don't want to do that! I swear to God, I'm a boy! Please believe me, I'm so embarrassed!"

"Nonsense, ma'am. Don't worry, we'll get this baby out of you in no time," said the doctor as he lifted the green dress that Dudley was wearing. Dudley was able to see the doctor's shocked expression that quickly turned to an embarrassed look of understanding. All the doctor managed to say was, "Oh."

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To try to turn the attention away from him and Dudley, Neville yelled a quick spell before grabbing Dudley and making a dash out the window. As soon as they were out of sight, they apparated back to the ranch.

"You have a lot of making up to me to do before I even think about destroying that horcrux now."

"I understand," said Neville, with his head hung low.

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The next night, after the day's workouts were over, Dudley and his teammates decided to watch some television so they could relax and try to forget about their aching muscles and grumbling stomachs. They were all watching the ten o'clock news, and it was actually pretty boring, until they got a more local story. Apparently, there was a freak incident at the local hospital involving a group of obstetricians and nurses suddenly wearing short, brown, curly wigs, lots of make-up, gaudy rings, and fluffy pink cardigans.

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a/n- Happy Birthday, Charlotte!!! p.s. i'm going to go frost your cake now


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